


The Man Who Would Be King

by yayame



Series: Across the Universe [3]
Category: Winner (Band), iKON (Kpop)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, M/M, Smut, anyway I'm trash, bobby and yunhyung are barely in this, i have other things to do and i wrote this instead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 08:32:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8616931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yayame/pseuds/yayame
Summary: If you don't like the law, change it.





	1. Appendices

**Author's Note:**

> damnnnn, back at it again with the jundong fic
> 
> I know, I know. I have to finish Come Back Home but look! *distraction* Another historical AU of jundong that ends happily!

**Appendix A: Glossary**

**Baji** : The bottom part of the hanbok; the formal term for pants, [wiki](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Baji_\(clothing\))

**Bipa** : A pear shaped lute instrument, [wiki](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bipa)

**Durumagi** : A type of overcoat worn with the hanbok to fend off the cold, and for ceremonial purposes, [wiki](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Durumagi)

**Gat** : A traditional type of hat worn by men, [wiki](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gat_\(hat\))

**Gayageum** : A Korean string instrument, [wiki](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gayageum)

**Gisaeng** **(Kisaeng)** : Artists who entertained nobility and royalty; some worked as courtesans, similarly to the Japanese geisha, [wiki](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kisaeng)

**Gonryongpo** : Also known as dragon robe of kings, [wiki](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dragon_robe)

**Hanbok** : Traditional Korean dress, [wiki](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hanbok)

**Hanseong** : Capital of Joseon; present day Seoul, [wiki](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seoul)

**Hwa** : Refers to any type of boots, [wiki](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hwa)

**Jeogori** : Basic upper garment of a hanbok, [wiki](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jeogori)

**Jeon** : Traditional Korean pancake, [wiki](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jeon_\(food\))

**Jipsin** : Korean traditional sandals made of straw, most commonly worn by the working class and scholars on outings, [wiki](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jipsin)

**Joseon** : Korean kingdom beginning 1392 and ending in 1897, [wiki](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joseon)

**Kumiho (Gumiho):**  A nine-tailed fox derived from Korean folklore, [wiki](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kumiho)

**Ondol** : Korean traditional underfloor heating, [wiki](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ondol)

**Soju** : A type of Korean distilled alcohol composed of ethanol and water, [wiki](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Soju#History)

**Yangban** : Part of the traditional ruling class of the Joseon dynasty, [wiki](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yangban)

**Yuja** : Traditional Korean tea made from the citrus fruit yuzu, [wiki](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yujacha)

**Appendix B: Legend of the Kumiho**

Different from the wikipedia entry, this is my version of the kumiho:

Kumihos are known for their beauty and can only transform into two forms: human and nine-tailed fox. Although, they can take the form of a human, it is only temporarily. Kumihos can permanently become humans if they spend the first hundred days of their marriage without meat. These creatures can live for a thousand years but if they are turned into humans, can only live a natural human life. In most Korean folklore, the main goal of a kumiho is to become a human thus many stories feature kumihos falling in love with humans.

They are known to be quick-witted and in folklore are written to be guardians of forests, often testing people with riddles. 

In Korean mythology, it is believed that when there is a shooting star, a kumiho has fallen in love. And when a kumiho is heartbroken, there is a lunar eclipse.

**Appendix C: Gisaeng & Gisaeng House**

My interpretation of the gisaeng:

Similar to the Japanese geisha, gisaeng are courtesans who entertain nobility and royalty privately. It is often a looked down profession, and equated to prositution, but this policy varies depending on the gisaeng house. Gisaeng begin training at a young age; the youngest being five years old, and the oldest being ten years old. The basics of gisaeng education must include the art of music, calligraphy, dancing, and painting; some gisaeng houses choose to focus on other subjects as well, i.e. archery, sword-fighting, etc. Most gisaeng make their debut between the age of eighteen and twenty. 

During the Joseong dynasty in 1650, all gisaeng were made slaves of the government. They were considered property of the king, resulting in a percentage of the revenue of the gisaeng house going to the royalty. 

There are many different gisaeng houses in the country; the most famous houses reside in the capital and provide extensive education of the arts. The three most famous gisaeng houses of Hanseong were supported by Duke Lee Soo-Man, Marquis Park Jin-young, and Marquis Yang Hyun-suk. These three gisaeng houses were famous for their high-class education and only served the yangban class. 

**Appendix D: Characters**

**Kim Donghyuk** : A gisaeng of Yang Hyun-suk patron, he has been training since he was five years old. Originally, he was the son of poor farmers who could not afford to raise five children. He is often soft-spoken but witty around those he feels comfortable with; he learned the basics of gisaeng training with a special focus on dancing and poetry. He makes his debut at the age of nineteen. 

**Koo Junhwe** : The son of a respected colonel, Junhwe is expected to enter the army like his father. He is often considered cold and aloof by his colleagues but has a softer for his friends. He is firmly traditional, believing he must fulfil his duty as a soldier as his father had planned but along the way, finds his own ambitions. 

**Kim Jinhwan** : The second oldest of the Kim brothers, Jinhwan has been training since he was eight years old. Along with his brothers, they were sold to the gisaeng house to begin training and ease the burden on his parents. He made his debut at the age of eighteen, with a speciality in embroidery and archery. 

**Kim Jinwoo** : The oldest of the trio, Jinwoo began training at ten years old, and was considered one of the oldest gisaeng trainees at the time; however, his beauty overruled all other standards, in which it would've been dictated he be sold to a brothel or slavery. Like his brothers, he is soft-spoken with a talent for instruments and calligraphy. After debuting at the age of twenty, Jinwoo is made the sole gisaeng of Noble Song Mino, restricting his clientile. He is not allowed to serve any other customer without permission but does help the younger gisaeng prepare for their debut and performances. 

**Song Mino** : The oldest son of a state minister, he joins the army at the age of nineteen; he has grown up with Junhwe and Hanbin as next-door neighbors. He is known for his playful nature and cool attitude; he purchases patronage of Jinwoo from the state of Joseon (often unheard of at the time because few could afford to do so). 

**Kim Hanbin** : The only son of a wealthy merchant and the neice of a royal concubine, Hanbin grew up with Junhwe and Mino. He joins the navy at eighteen and is known for his silent and aloof attitude. He often acts differently around his close friends and confidants but with his stoic front, is quickly making his way up the ranks. 


	2. Final

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The long reign of terror perpetuated by the Park clan was overthrown by a group of rebels and bandits, ushering a new dynasty of peace. The new era was led by the strategic Lieutenant Koo, who gathered disillusioned bandits in southern territory and led them to victory in the Joseon capitol of Hanseong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** (Present)  
> \--- (Flashback)

Hanseong, Joseon: March 1684

 

            The night is lit up with brightly colored lanterns and the loud chatter of merchants loitering in and out of small stalls. Different voices try to usher civilians inside the intricately designed huts, promises on the edge of their tongues as they survey rich and colorful robes.

            “I really don’t see the point of this.”

            “You’re a man! You’re finally an adult, Junhwe!”

            The aforementioned male rolls his eyes, tightening the silk ribbon of his gat under his chin as he allows his rambunctious friends drag him inside a well-established building.

            “Sir Hanbin! Sir Mino! What a pleasure to see you again! And I see you have a brought a guest tonight.” An absolutely saccharine voice calls out.

            He looks up to study the figure standing on paved steps; the male form is dressed in rich pink silks, ornately stitched with images of dancing cranes. From under the brim of his gat, he can see pale skin, reddened lips, and wide, bashful eyes. He peeks from the corner of his eye to see Mino light up, rushing forward to help the stranger down the steps, his cheeks pink as their hands make contact.

            “Jinwoo! You know, I can never stay away too long from such a beauty.” Mino wears a Cheshire grin, unable to draw his eyes away from the figure.

            “Did you bring me to a gisaeng house?” He grits quietly, glaring at Hanbin, who seems disinterested in engaging in any conversation.

            “Jinwoo, where’s Jinhwan?”

            He glares at his friend’s blatant refusal to answer his question.

            The delicate figure grins widely, “I believe he is getting ready for the night, Sir Hanbin. Would you like to reserve a room?”

            Mino interrupts any other conversation, “Yes! Our friend here, Junhwe, has just legally become an adult and we are here to celebrate his birthday!”

            “Exciting!” Jinwoo smiles warmly at him, “I shall prepare a room right away.”

            “Also, Jinwoo…” Mino grins down at the male, “Perhaps you have a recommendation for some company. We wouldn’t want Sir Junhwe to be alone.” His tone is teasing and Jinwoo easily returns the grin.

            “Of course…” He can’t interpret the look on the courtesan’s face, but it’s gone before he can dwell on it. “The room at the end of the hallway should be open. I shall make arrangements right away, sirs.”

            And with that, Jinwoo disappears back up the steps, while Hanbin and Mino wrangle their arms around his shoulders, dragging him down a long narrow hallway.

***

            The door closes with a quiet swoosh; he looks up to see Jinwoo gently step into the room, smiling warmly at him as Jinhwan brushes his hair.

            “Sir Hanbin is here.”

            Jinhwan pauses his movements, a blush creeping over his features, “Well, then I guess Sir Mino is here as well.”

            The eldest of the three giggles, hiding his flush behind a paper fan, “He is…”

            “Very well then. Donghyuk can you finish getting ready by yourself?”

            He smiles warmly, “Of course.”

            “Actually, they’ve brought another guest and I think it’s the perfect time for Donghyuk to finally make his debut.”

            He widens his eyes at Jinwoo, “W-wait, tonight? I-isn’t that a little sudden? I mean I’m not even ready…”

            The delicate male kneels down to make eye contact with him, soft hands on either side of his face to draw his eyes up, “You’re ready, Donghyuk. Besides, Sir Mino and Sir Hanbin are very nice, I’m sure their guest will be nothing short of a gentleman.”

            Jinhwan nods beside him, offering a reassuring smile of his own.

            With a tentative nod, he runs a comb through his brown locks one last time before Jinwoo helps him stand up to fix his teal robes.

***

            “I can’t believe you brought me to a gisaeng house!” He mutters as they all sit on padded silk cushions, arms crossed over his chest.

            “Correction: we brought you to the best gisaeng house in Hanseong.” Mino smirks, settling comfortably as he undoes his gat, tossing it to the side.

            “Loosen up, Junhwe. It’s your birthday, you’re here to have fun.” Hanbin reaches over to undo the strings on his gat, placing it beside him with a grin.

            “I thought you were going to take me out to a bar, not a whore house!”

            Immediately, a dark look dawns on the other two males, “This isn’t a whore house, Junhwe. As much as it may surprise you, these gisaeng are here to keep us company for the night, nothing else.” Mino spits out with furrowed eyebrows.

            “Don’t just dismiss these men because of the position they were born into, Junhwe.”

            Just as he’s about to retort, there is a light knock and they can see three silhouettes behind the papered doors.

            “Come in.” Mino is practically buzzing in his excitement, running a hand through his dark hair before straightening out the collar of his jeogori.

            Jinwoo leads the march; still impeccable in his pink hanbok, followed by a petite male dressed in grassy green robes with a bashful smile as he bows politely. In the corner of his eye, he can see the wide grin adorning Hanbin’s face when they make eye contact. He glances at both males before settling on the last male trailing into the room.

            He studies the figure, eyes running over the bright teal robes before halting at soft features and a small, shy smile. He can feel his breath hitch as he openly stares at the newcomer, unable to draw his eyes away.

            “This is Donghyuk. Tonight is actually his first night.” Jinwoo speaks softly, settling onto an empty cushion beside Mino, “I figured because this is Sir Junhwe’s first time at a gisaeng house, they’d be able to understand each other.”

            “An excellent idea.” Hanbin nods before bashfully patting the seat beside him; the petite male walks close, dropping down to sit comfortably on the cushion. “This is Jinhwan, by the way. Jinhwan, this is my colleague, Junhwe.”

            The elfin figure flashes him a friendly smile, “Hello, Sir Junhwe. I understand it’s your birthday, happy birthday.”

           He blushes, nodding thankfully before his eyes travel back to the lone figure.

            “Sit down, Donghyuk.” Jinwoo’s voice is soft, heavy with giggles as Mino whispers in his ear.

            The aforementioned male nods, tentatively taking a seat beside him; from the close distance he can smell a hint of jasmine and make out almond shaped eyes, framed with dark heavy lashes. Junhwe leans a bit closer to study the other’s soft features, noting sun-kissed skin and pink lips shiny with oil.

            He glances around the room to see the other four already engrossed in their private conversations before his eyes make their way back to the gisaeng. With an awkward cough, they finally make eye contact, “Uh, hello.”

            The courtesan ducks his head with flushed cheeks before glancing up beneath fluttering eyelashes, “Hello, sir.”

            His voice is soft, barely above a breathless whisper and it draws him in, “You don’t have to call me sir. Junhwe is fine.”

            “I-I couldn’t…”

            “You can.” He can’t wipe the grin off his face, admiring the pink blush on his features, “How old are you, Donghyuk?”

            “I’m nineteen, sir— I mean, Junhwe.”

            He likes how the name rolls off his lips, staring curiously at the smaller male, “We’re the same age… I like that.”

            And then Donghyuk flashes him a wide grin and he knows he’s gone, just like the rest of them.

***

            Donghyuk wears a soft grin as he reaches for a porcelain cup, carefully pouring rice wine before handing the beverage to his guest. He tries to remember all the tips and tricks the older courtesans had taught him: glancing at the patron under fluttering eyelashes, running his tongue over his lips to draw attention to his pink mouth, and whispering softly to draw the noble closer to him.

            It seems to work; Sir Junhwe watches him with interest, his cheeks flushing under the stare.

            “Do you play any instruments?”

            He looks down at his hands, tugging at the heavy rings out of habit before looking up with a shy smile and pink cheeks, “I have learned a bit of the gayageum.”

            “Would you play for me?”

            “Perhaps someday.” He wittily replies, drawing out a hearty chuckle from Sir Junhwe.

            “Is that a promise?”

            His breath hitches, eyes catching on the other male’s wide grin, “Yes.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to come back soon.”

He doesn’t respond, feeling the blush crawl up his skin as they lock eyes.

***

            The night wears on; he doesn’t realize how late it is until he feels a warm hand on his shoulder. He turns back to see Mino staring at him with a grin, his face flushed from alcohol and his jet-black hair untangled.

            “It’s time we head back. We have a meeting with the king in the morning.”

            He nods but he doesn’t want to pull away; he can’t tear his eyes away from sun-kissed skin and rosy cheeks but a glance at Hanbin in the corner, huddled together with that small courtesan, whispering goodbye, sobers him up.

            “Right.” He studies Donghyuk one last time, reaching out to tuck a loose brown lock behind his ear, “Good night, Donghyuk.”

            “Good night, Junhwe.” His voice is breathless, barely above a whisper, only for him to hear.

            He can hear the others shuffle out of the room, leaving the pair alone, “I shall see you soon.”

            The gisaeng’s giggle is light and he wants to hear it again but a hand is hooked into the collar of his hanbok, dragging him out of the room. He sputters in protest, looking to see Hanbin’s fist tightly gripping his lapel as they make their way out of the house. Junhwe flushes when the gisaeng paired with Mino and Hanbin giggle behind their paper fans, waving goodbye to the group as they pass through the gates.

            “Good night! We hope you had an excellent night, Sir Junhwe.” Their voices sing in the dark night, and only deepen his blush.

            However, a glance over his shoulder and he sees Donghyuk standing in his teal robes on the top of the steps, shyly waving them off, leaving a wide grin on his face.

            “I told you, you’d have fun.” Mino playfully punches his arm, refusing to wipe the smirk off his face as he exchanges Cheshire grins with Hanbin.

            He rolls his eyes but even under the shadows of the night, the blush on his cheeks is evident.

***

            “How was your first night?”

            Donghyuk yawns, staring at his reflection in the mirror as he runs a comb through his hair; he flushes under the teasing grins of Jinhwan and Jinwoo, eyes darting down to stare at his hands, “It was nice…”

            “And Sir Junhwe?”

            His heart stutters, biting his lip to stop the grin from stretching his lips, “He is very… Nice.”

            Jinhwan and Jinwoo giggle but don’t press any further.

***

            He huffs out a breath as Jinhwan tightens the yellow sash around his waist, lips tugged down into a frown when Jinwoo walks by with a chuckle.

            “Okay, you’re good.” Jinhwan pats his shoulder with a tentative smile, “Get used to it.”

            Nodding silently, Donghyuk glances at the mirror, letting Jinhwan pull his face towards him to brush thick pink oil over his lips.

            “Donghyuk, you have a client.” Jinwoo settles in front of the vanity, running his fingers through his hair and flashing a smile in the mirror. “You should hurry. Wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.” He winks, drawing out another blush from his cheeks.

***

            Coughing nervously, he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly; he adjusts on the cushioned seats, crossing and uncrossing his legs, running his hands through his dark locks, and downing the shot glass of soju.

            “Good evening, sir—“

            He glances up from the heated floors, smile stretched widely at the gisaeng, “Good evening, Donghyuk.”

            “You have returned.”

            “I was promised a performance of the gayageum.”

            The smaller male blushes prettily, stepping into the private room with a quiet slide of the door behind him, “I’m afraid I don’t have my instrument with me.”

            “Well, then, I guess I’ll have to keep coming back until I hear you play.” He pats the cushion beside him, admiring the rich embroidered silks as it sways on the ondol floors.

***

Hanseong, Joseon: August 1684

           

            “Back again, Sir Junhwe?”

            He steps through the gates, looking up to see the familiar saccharine grin of Jinwoo; he ducks his head in embarrassment before nodding softly.

            There’s a light chuckle and he looks up to see Jinhwan stepping out of one of the private rooms, “Although, I’m afraid Donghyuk won’t be available tonight.”

            He freezes, staring at both of them as they wear matching sympathetic looks, “W-why?”

            “Another client had requested him for the night.”

            “A-another client?”

            The two gisaeng share looks, before Jinwoo speaks up again, “He’s a regular client here. Usually, he does not care for specific company but tonight, he explicitly asked for Donghyuk.”

            Nodding solemnly, he turns away from the other two.

            “Would you like to meet with another? I think Jisoo is available—“

            “No, that’s quite alright. I’m afraid I have other business to attend.” He takes a step towards the gates before pausing and turning to the two figures, “I… Would you deliver this to Donghyuk? I thought he might like it.” He hands over a small silken pouch, “It caught my eye while visiting Manchuria.”

            Jinhwan nods while Jinwoo offers a friendly smile “Have a nice night, Sir Junhwe.”

            “Thank you.”

***

            He wears a sugary grin, pouring another glass of rice wine as gisaeng Chaeyoung plucks the tightened strings of her bipa. There is loud chatter as men crowd around the gisaeng, demanding their attention as they sit around, drunk off expensive wines.

            “I think Donghyuk is the prettiest gisaeng I have ever seen.” His patron drunkenly laughs, “Wouldn’t you agree, Jiwon?”

            “I think you’re drunk, Sir Yunhyung.” He shyly counters, blush crawling up his skin when he feels a warm hand over his own as he continues to refill empty porcelain cups.

            “I am but I know beauty when I see it.”

            The other nobles of the room laugh, their laughs resounding in the room.

            “It seems Yunhyung is enraptured by your beauty, Donghyuk.”

            He looks up with pink cheeks and fluttering eyelashes to glance at Duke Kim Jiwon, “Both of you lie.”

            “We would never!” Yunhyung playfully gasps, the room echoing with laughter, “Would you marry me Donghyuk? I could save you.”

            He flushes, playfully shoving the other’s shoulder, “What a scandal that will be: a yangban marrying a gisaeng. I doubt the emperor would approve.”

            The noble grins lazily, “Then perhaps we shall run away.”

            “You can’t run away from your problems forever, Yunhyung.” Jiwon jeers from the side, wrapping an arm around a blushing gisaeng as he tilts a bottle of rice wine past his lips.

            The yangban laughs again, “No, I cannot. It’s why I live for the night, isn’t that right, Donghyuk?”

            He smiles warmly, nodding silently as his eyes flit over the room, the toll of alcohol weighing down on everyone now. “It seems the night has passed though, Sir Yunhyung.”

***

            “Sir Yunhyung is nice.” Jinwoo hums in their shared bedroom, carefully folding the silken robes of his hanbok.

            He pauses, looking forward curiously, “…He is.”

            “He seems to have taken a particular interest in you.”

            “He’s never shown a particular interest in anyone.” Jinhwan adds, finally stepping into the room after finishing up with the night’s last client.

            “He is only infatuated. Nothing more. It will soon pass.”

            Neither of the older boys comment any further, preparing duvets and sheets for the night in silence.

            “Oh!” He looks over at Jinwoo to see him digging through thick embroidered robes to pull out a small red pouch, “Sir Junhwe asked us to deliver this to you.”

            “S-sir Junhwe was here?” His heart stumbles, breath hitched, “When?”

            “Earlier tonight. He said he was visiting Manchuria and thought you might like it.”

            He reaches out, admiring the soft silk in his hand with pink cheeks; he flips the pouch over, studying the embroidered design of a tiger on one side and a kumiho on the other. Donghyuk carefully runs his fingers over the threaded silk, smiling softly.

            “What’s in the pouch?” Jinhwan peers over his shoulder, “That’s a pretty rare design. I wonder where he found a pouch with a tiger and kumiho on it.”

            “I haven’t opened it yet…” He looks down into his lap, dropping his head slightly.

            “Oh. _Oh._ He doesn’t want to show us, Jinhwan. It’s his secret with Sir Junhwe.” Jinwoo teases with a playful grin, tugging on the other gisaeng to pull him close, “Our baby brother has all grown up. Keeping secrets from us.”

            The blush on his cheeks deepens, “You’re overdramatic.”

            “Do you see how he talks back to us? Where has our innocent baby Donghyuk gone?” The oldest courtesan presses the back of his hand to his forehead, sighing dramatically as Jinhwan laughs joyfully.

            “I don’t have time for your games,” he huffs out with red cheeks, turning into the corner of the room, pulling the sheets over his head to hide himself; his actions draw out long laughs from his brothers while he stares at the pouch under the privacy of the blanket.

\---

            “You still have not played the gayageum for me.”

            Laughing softly, he pulls the teapot away from the decorative cups, “I guess not.”

            “I will return every day until you do.”

            “Then perhaps I will never play.”

            Junhwe barks out a laugh, staring adoringly at the young courtesan, “Have you heard of the story of the kumiho and tiger?”

            He looks up, eyelashes dark and smile soft, “I have not, Junhwe.”

            “My mother used to recite the story every night before she tucked me in.”

            “How does it go?”

            “A long time ago, there was a beautiful kumiho that was rumored to be the most beautiful creature in all the land. All of the animals in the forest loved him because he was kind-hearted and caring. The king heard of his beauty and asked the kumiho to marry him. However, the kumiho had a secret.”

            “What was his secret?”

            Junhwe smiles, patting Donghyuk closer to let the smaller male lean against his shoulder as they sit against the wall. “He was not in love with the king. He was in love with someone else.”

            “The tiger?”

            “Yes. The kumiho and tiger had known each other for a long time and the tiger accepted any form of the kumiho.”

            “Do they end up together?”

            “I’m getting there. You’re impatient today.” He teases, “The tiger promises that he will protect the kumiho no matter what and along with all the other creatures of the forest goes to the kingdom to save the kumiho. But it’s too late. The kumiho has already become a human and can no longer understand the language of the animals.”

            “What happens to the tiger then?”

            “Keeping his vow, he stays by the kumiho’s side as a pet, protecting him for the rest of his life. He dies the day after the kumiho of a broken heart, refusing to live more than a day without him.”

            “How sad. Why would you tell me such a melancholy tale?”

            “Because you remind me of the kumiho.” Donghyuk tilts his head to the side in curiosity. “You’re beautiful and kind-hearted. You care for everyone, I bet you couldn’t be mean to a fly even if you tried.”

            His laugh is soft and airy, filling the room with bell-like noise. “If I am the kumiho, then, are you my king or my tiger?”

            The noble’s stare is deep as he reaches a hand to brush away strands of loose brown hair from his face, “I am a tiger. I am your tiger.”  

\---

Hanseong, Joseon: January 1685

            “Junhwe?”

            He looks up from his teacup, awakening from his reverie, “Yes, mother?”

            “Have you been listening?”

            Sheepishly ducking his head, “I’m sorry, mother. I must have gotten lost in my thoughts.”

            “This boy. His head is always stuck in the cloud.” She smiles, turning to her husband, “Your father was just discussing an arranged marriage between you and the Jang family of the East. I believe her name is Hanna. She’s a very nice girl; we met at the annual royal ball in the fall.”

            His words are caught in his throat, glaring at the cooled tea in his cup, “I am not interested.”

            “Oh?” His father’s voice is deep and husky like his own, “And why not? This alliance would be very beneficial to us.”

            “I am not in love with her.”

            The man of the household scoffs, “I knew your mother’s tales would cloud your head one day. Love is arbitrary. You need to think of your future, of your descendants.”

            “I am not in love with her.” He repeats.

            “What do you even know of love? You have never been in—“

            “I am in love.”

            His mother brings her dainty hands to her lips, covering her shock, “W-what? With who?”

            His father’s interest is piqued, “With a noble?”

            “No.”

            “Then a commoner.” The disdain is evident in the way he spits his words out, “Or worse, a gisaeng. It’s a gisaeng isn’t it? I knew those Kim and Song boys would be bad influences on you.”

            “It does not matter what class he is. I know I am in love.”

            “You are young and naïve. This is all just a phase. You will break it off with this peasant you claim to love.”

            “No. I have vowed to stay by his side and I intend to keep that promise.”

            “Get out.”

            “My husband! Please reconsider! You cannot drive your only son out.”

            “I said get out! Do not return to this home unless you have ended things with this, this whore!”

            Junhwe overturns the table in fit of anger, “Never call him that again! You could never be half the man that he is!” He spins on his heel, stomping out of the home and into the courtyard, his hanbok flapping wildly in the winter wind.

***

            “Ah, Sir Junhwe, it’s nice to see you—“

            “Is Donghyuk in?” He cuts off the petite male, face red from the cold as he stares darkly at the decorated gisaeng house.

            Jinhwan’s eyes are wide as he nods hurriedly, “He is just getting ready, sir.”

            “I will be in the room at the end of the hall.” He smoothly brushes past the short courtesan; footsteps swift as he slides open the papered doors before falling on silk cushions.

            He waits for a long moment before the door slides open again, steps soft as the subtle sway of the hanbok brushes against the ondol floors, “You called for me— Junhwe, your face is red!”

            The noble feels warm hands on his cheeks, transferring heat onto the cold skin; he smiles sheepishly, “I am fine now.”

            “You’re freezing! Did you walk here?” The gisaeng grabs his hands, bringing them to his lips to blow hot air on the icy appendages.

            “…I did. I seemed to have forgotten my winter robes before stepping out.”

            “How foolish of you.” Donghyuk reaches for a ceramic teapot, steam seeping out of the spout as he pours a generous amount into the china cup, “Drink. Your core must be frozen.”

            “I’m fine.”

            “You are not fine.” He breathlessly chuckles at how the courtesan argues, “How could you even forget to bring your winter robes? Have you forgotten it is the winter season?”

            “I was distracted.”

            “Distracted by what?” Donghyuk still has not let go of his hands, refilling his teacup with more yuja tea.

            He falls silent, staring at their joined hands, running his thumb over smooth skin.

            “Junhwe?”

            He doesn’t answer.

            “Junhwe? You can tell me anything.”

            With a quiet sigh, he looks up, staring into dark brown eyes, framed with fluttering lashes; he glances at bronzed skin, studying rosy lips, and tinted cheeks before he tentatively leans forward. Donghyuk’s breath hitches when their lips press together; he notes how soft they are, uncoated with the pink rouge the gisaeng seems to favor. The courtesan doesn’t push away; instead, carefully wrapping small hands in the lapels of his jeogori, bringing him closer.

            With a silent exhale they pull away, pressing their foreheads together in the quietude of the room, staring into each other’s eyes, “I love you.”

            The smaller male’s eyes widen before they soften, a warm smile left on his lips, “I love you too.”

***

            “And what do you expect to do? You can’t do anything without the emperor’s permission.”

            Junhwe roughly runs his hands through his hair, “I know that, Mino. You’re not helping.”

            “Well, what do you want me to say? Go ahead and marry the gisaeng! Everything will be okay! Is that what you want?”

            “No, that’s not what I want! What I want is to be with Donghyuk!”

            “Junhwe…” Hanbin’s voice is low and gentle, “We know how you feel… But the laws, the laws just won’t allow it.”

            “So, we give up? That’s it? Just completely give up?”

            “It’s not… Look, if there was any way we could be with Jinhwan and Jinwoo, do you think we wouldn’t take it?”

            He stares silently at his hands, wringing his wrists, “I just… I just can’t stand the idea of him being with someone else. Entertaining them. Smiling at them. I just can’t.”

***

            “What’s going on?” Donghyuk peers out the window to see a crowd outside, “What is everyone doing?”

            Jinwoo walked through the gates, holding a pink parasol; “There are bandits in the south. Rumors say they are making their way to the capitol. The kingdom has issued warrants for their arrests.”

            “Bandits? Are they dangerous?”

            “You don’t have to worry about anything. There’s no way they can get past the capitol’s walls.”

            “But still…”

            “Donghyuk!” He glances over his shoulder, Jinhwan shuffling into their shared bedroom, “Sir Yunhyung is here again. He’s in his usual room.”

            Nodding quietly, he made his way out of the room, straightening out his lilac robes as he knocks softly on the paper doors, pulling the bronzed handle to slide the door open. “Hello Sir Yunhyung.”

            “Donghyuk! Come and sit.” The noble pulls more cushions to the floor, grin wide, “I have missed you! My campaign in Mongolia seemed so lonely without such pleasant company.”

            He plasters on a smile, kneeling on the soft cushion, “I’m sure you had no trouble finding company in Mongolia. Your charm knows no bounds.”

            Yunhyung throws his head back in laughter, “You never fail to amuse me.” The taller male pauses, clearing his throat, “How have you been?”

            “I have been well but quite bored without such exciting company. You must tell me of your adventures in foreign lands.”

            “Am I that entertaining? Perhaps I should be a gisaeng.” His chuckle is low in his chest, flashing a smirk at the small male.” Mongolia was very interesting. I think I would like to take you there sometime.”

            “Me?”

            “Yes, you. Their clothes bare rich designs and soft furs. I think you’d look beautiful in them.”

            He blushes, playfully shushing him. “You are teasing me again.”

            “Never.” He barks out a laugh, “Have you seen the crowds in the streets?”

            “My brothers have told me bandits are coming from the south.”

            Yunhyung hums softly, twirling a colored fan in his hands, “They are. But they won’t get past the city’s fortress. Our king is too smart for that.”

            Donghyuk nods, lifting the teal teapot as he pours ginseng tea; he knows better. Although, his life has been confined to the walls of the gisaeng house, his noble patrons and the yangban government officials speak in hushed tones of the state. They whisper about the debt. They discuss the king’s insanity. They talk about everything in the government and he knows the king has no idea how to run a country. “We are lucky to have him as our ruler.”

***

            “Your majesty, bandits are coming from the south! We must reinforce the walls of the city.”

            They stand stoically against the wall, eyes trained forward as different ministers crowd the courtroom’s floor, bowing deeply to their king.

            “We do not need to reinforce the walls of the city. We just need to reinforce the walls of the palace.”

            “B-but the citizens—“

            “Are nothing without a king. There will always be people but there is only one king.”

            The court falls silent; the king ignores their silence as he grabs a concubine, laughing loudly as he forcefully pulls her into a kiss.

            His fist tightens by his side but Hanbin throws him a look that makes his avert his gaze away from the forceful display of power. He takes three deep breaths before throwing one last glare at the king, disgust marring his mind as he sees how the monarch throws golden goblets on the floor in a loud crash, flying into another bout of raging insanity.

***

            There is a quiet tap on the window, shrouded by cotton curtains; Donghyuk glances around the empty room before carefully swinging the window open, overlooking the walled compound into the small alleyway below. “Junhwe?” His voice is soft, breath fogging the air.

            “Come out!”

            He shakes his head; “My brothers will kill me if I sneak out!”

            “Please! Just for a little bit! I know they’re with Mino and Hanbin so they probably won’t be back for a while.”

            Pondering quietly, he looks down below at the black brim of the noble’s gat, worrying his lip, “Just for a little bit…”

            “Yes! Of course!” Even in midnight shadows, he can see the wide grin stretched across his lips, baring white teeth.

            With a small survey of the room, the quiet laughter from the private tearooms of the gisaeng house traveling down the hallway, Donghyuk reaches into the armoire to pull out a navy blue durumagi before cautiously peering out the bedroom door to see empty hallways; with soft footfalls, he shuffles out of the gisaeng house to the courtyard, slipping his feet into a pair of polished hwa.

            He moves cautiously on frozen ground, careful to close the gate behind without noise before looking up to see Junhwe grinning down at him. Trying to act aloof, he nods softly in acknowledgment but can feel his lips tug into a smile.

            “I missed you.” Junhwe’s tone is deep, reverberating from within his chest, “Come, I want to show you something!” He feels a warm hand reach for his, grip tight as they make their way through narrow alleyways, careful to avoid the watchful eyes of citizens.

***

            They hike up a small hill before reaching an isolated gazebo, blankets strewn on the wooden floor and lanterns hung from the roof. As they draw closer to the structure, he can see the pink flush of Donghyuk’s cheeks, although, he’s not sure if it’s from the setting or the winter chill. “My mother told me she came here every night when she was pregnant. She said she was drawn to the stares while carrying me.”

            They quietly settle into the cushions and duvets, pulling the bundles of fabric close to their chests to try and warm themselves from the icy weather. He reaches out tentatively to wrap a long arm around the smaller male’s shoulders, blushing together as they huddle for warmth.

            “The stars are very pretty.”

            Donghyuk tilts his head to the sky, admiring the twinkle of light across the midnight sky.

            “They are…” He hums; studying the sharp angle of the courtesan’s jaw, the blemish-free skin, and the dark lashes that rest in contrast against it. “They are very beautiful.” He smiles softly when Donghyuk grins at the constellations strewn across the heavens. “My mother told me the day I was born, a shooting star streaked across the sky.”

            “A shooting star? You have been blessed then. A kumiho had fallen in love.”

            Junhwe chuckles, the laugh deep in his chest, “My father believed it was a sign that I would be a general someday.”

            “Is that what you dream of? Becoming a general?”

            “…No.”

            “What do you dream of?”

            “I’m not sure.”

            “Exactly what we need in a general.”

            He makes a sound of indignant protest before sighing softly at Donghyuk’s giggle, “I dream of…”

***

            They lie on the comfortable sheets spread on the wooden floors, their breaths clouding the atmosphere as they share silence. Donghyuk rests his head on the other’s chest, the fabric of his silken jeogori pressing against his cheek. “Why did you bring me here?”

            “I can’t do something nice?”

            “It is out of character for you.”

            The resulting laugh vibrates through him, “…I have to leave.”

            He pulls away, looking up with wide eyes, his brown locks tangled, “What? When? Where?”

            “Tomorrow morning. The bandits are getting stronger. We’ve been ordered to retaliate.”

            “We?”

            They pull up to sit, legs crossed as they stare at each other. Junhwe sighs, reaching out to lightly trace his fingers against his jaw, “Me, Mino, and Hanbin. The bandits have reached Chungcheong.”

            He digs his hands into the silk jeogori, wrinkling the fabric with thick creases, “When will you come back?”

            “I don’t—“

            “When will you come back?” He can feel the other’s breath hitch, burying his face in Junhwe’s chest as he feels warm hands run up and down his back.

            “As soon as possible. I promise.”

            He nods against the broad chest, tilting his head to stare up at the noble before gently sighing when he felt chapped lips against his. “You have to come back. You have to. You still haven’t heard me play the gayageum so you have to come back.”

            The taller male laughs breathlessly, his smile not reaching his eyes yet, “Of course.”

***

Chungcheong, Joseon: June 1685

 

            Hooves kick up dirt as they travel slowly down the road; he can feel the sun’s rays on his back, the plated metal reflecting as the troops trot forward. He surveys the grassy fields and the village’s walls made of mud, watching as soldiers stand against the walls, trying to create another barricade.

            “Junhwe.”

            He glances over his shoulder to see Hanbin waiting at the gates, safely saddled on a snowy horse; he nods at the major, carefully striding over on his own black stallion. “They’re near. They will breach the perimeter soon.”

            The other male nods solemnly, “Reinforcements still have not arrived.”

            “…Don’t get your hopes up. The king will not save us.”

            “Junhwe!”

            Hanbin’s face is red, ready to reprimand him but he raises a hand to silence him, “I’m only telling the truth. To the king, we are pawns, nothing more.” He pulls the leather reigns away, guiding his horse towards the village’s entrance, nodding at his men, as they stood ready.

            “Sir! Sir! The bandits! The bandits are coming!” A foot soldier raced down the dirt road, carrying a red flag to signal oncoming battle.

            He stares stoically at the horizon, the thunderous clap of horses’ hooves clattering on the floor as savage men ride towards the village. With a dark voice, he calls out, “Men! This is the day you have been training for! We live for this country! We will die for this country!”

***

Hanseong, Joseon: August 1685

 

            The wind breezes softly, sunlight beaming warmly through white cotton sheets; Donghyuk reached for a wooden pin, hanging dyed cotton fabrics on string.

            “Donghyuk, when you’re finished with the laundry, come inside for lunch!”

            He looked up to see Jinhwan peering out of a window, smiling warmly. “Okay! I’m almost done!” He finished hanging the clothes on the clothing line, running through the courtyard in jipsin before finally reaching the stone steps of the shared hut.

            “Great, we’re almost finished. Can you set the table?” Jinwoo playfully ruffled his hair, reaching for the hot clay plot, placing it on the low table as Jinhwan brought out three bowls of steaming rice.

            “Of course!” He grinned at his older brother, shuffling into the small kitchen to grab utensils.

            Settling around the table, legs crossed, they stared down at the small table and meager layout. Jinwoo smiled warmly as he began to pick the bones away from the grilled fish, placing the meat on his younger brothers’ dishes.

            Jinhwan grinned at Donghyuk; fishing through the hot pot to scoop out diced potatoes and into the youngest male’s bowl, “Eat!”

            “You guys don’t have to do this… You guys should eat too.”

            “Donghyuk, you’re our younger brother, it’s in our nature to care for you first.”

            He tried to roll his eyes, “I know you worry for me but…”

            The eldest male smiled, “Don’t worry about us too much. Now eat.”

            He sighed softly, nodding before flashing a small grin to ease the other two males; the peeling walls were a sharp contrast to their once lavish lifestyle and the worn collars of their clothes were a tattered disparity from the former styles of rich, embroidered silk and saturated satin. He could see the dark circles and light creases in their foreheads, exhaustion seeping into their bones.

            “Rebels!”

            All three men looked up from their table, shuffling on rough floors to throw on their jipsin as they ran out the gates to see the commoners gathered in the streets.

            “Taehyun! What’s going on?” Jinwoo turned to their neighbor, lost in the crowd of spectators.

            “The rebels have breached the city walls. They’re coming for the king.” Taehyun leans in close to the three of them, “I think it’s best you hide. I heard some of the officials are trying to gather the gisaeng to bargain with the rebels.”

            Jinhwan and Jinwoo exchange glances before the former reaches for him, dragging him back to their assigned cabin. “What— Let go! I want to see the—“

            “Donghyuk! Hide in the armoire until we come and get you, okay?”

            “No! I don’t want to—“

            “Donghyuk, please.” He stared at his brother, pleading softly, “I promise we’ll come back for you but I don’t think we could live with ourselves, I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you.”

            Staring warily, he nodded silently, “Okay.” Walking quietly up the stone steps, he shuffled into the small bedroom, opening the wooden doors of the cabinet and climbing over layers of pillows and duvets. He waited with bated breath, the silence deafening as he hid in the closet.

***

            Startled awake, Donghyuk looked up in darkness, remembering where he was; he had fallen asleep, leaning against the cold wooden surface of the armoire. Still hidden in layers of cotton sheets, he gripped brass handles, biting his lip as he heard a ruckus in the small house.

            “Remember he said to bring anyone we find to the palace. No funny business.”

            He held his breath, disembodied voices echoing as he heard footsteps thump against the worn hardwood floors. He listened as furniture was strewn, footsteps drawing closer and closer to where he was hidden.

            Clasping a hand over his lips, he clenched his eyes shut when he heard the brass handles clatter; a loud tug and he tumbled out of the armoire, crashing on wooden floors in a heap of cushions and blankets.

            “Well, well, well. Look what we have here.”

            He looked up to see the dirtied face of a bandit, his lips stretched wide to reveal missing teeth, hair matted and clothes ripped. The figure bent down, reaching out to touch his face and chuckling as he leaned away from him.

            “Aren’t you a pretty one? If I could, I would have some fun with you… Maybe our new king will throw you to us when he’s done fooling around.”

            “Don’t touch me…” His voice trembled, eyes wide as he stared in fear.

            “Sorry, sweetheart, you’re not really in a position to make demands.”

            Suddenly, he felt strong hands gripping his arms, dragging him out of the bedroom. Donghyuk kicked, struggling to get away from dirtied hands and the stench of alcohol and piss.

            “This one’s feisty. Maybe he’ll let us break this one in.”

            The bandits roar with laughter before they throw him into some sort of carriage. He grips wooden bars, peering out to see the empty streets and the overturned huts.

            “I don’t get why he would want the gisaeng of the red district. The last king didn’t even want them. It’s why he threw them here in the slums.”

            A horse neighed loudly; the wheels of the carriage churning up the dirt road towards the palace roads.

            “Do not question him. He is our king now.”

            He huddles into the corner of the carriage; the familiar pastures of the capitol passing by as he feels tears streaming down his face. Drawing his knees to his chest, he buried his face in his hands, loneliness seeping into his bones as the sky darkened, sun setting over the horizon. He could see the faces of citizens watching as soldiers and bandits marched.

***

            Lazing on the throne, he tried to find a comfortable position, glancing at the court’s doors as different people shuffled in and out of the room.

            “What has you so glum, your majesty?”

            Rolling his eyes, he glances at Mino grinning in the corner of the throne room, chugging a bottle of wine. “I believe I have made a mistake in making you my general.”

            “You wound me, your majesty. Is this how you treat your royal subjects?”

            “Should you be drinking so much?” Hanbin strolls in, blue robes swaying against the hardwood floors as he grabs the bottle of rice wine from Mino. They exchange grins before Hanbin takes a long sip of the alcohol. “He’s right. You are now king. What more could you ask for?”

            “I—“

            The court’s doors are slammed open; all three of them look up to see a crowd of men dragging different figures through. “We have gathered all the gisaeng as instructed.”

            He nods solemnly at them, eyes surveying each figure gathered in the throne room; they’re all scared, terrified as they lean in together, staring at the three men warily. They huddle away from the soldiers who watch them wolfishly.

            Clearing his throat, he steps off the steps of his throne, striding towards the group. They stare up at him with wide eyes; even in the pale hanbok of peasants, he can make out their beauty, not dulled by the plain clothing.

            “You are no longer the property of the kingdom. You are free to return to—“

            “Jinhwan!”

            Hanbin rushed towards the crowd, getting down on his knees to cup a familiar face; the petite male’s face had a streak of dried mud and his hair was ruffled with leaves and twigs.

            “Hanbin?” The courtesan’s voice is soft, barely above a whisper as he stares up at the newly appointed admiral.

            “Yes, yes. Are you all right? Have they… Have they touched you?” He flashes a glare at the soldiers, teeth gritting.

            “No! No. They did not, they did not touch me.” The gisaeng smiles softly, looking up at the noble.

            Mino stumbles out of his seat, dropping the bottle of wine on the ground, tripping over his robes. “Jinhwan! Jinhwan? Is—Where is Jinwoo?” He falls on the ground, eyes quickly scanning over the faces.

            “I… I don’t know. We were separated when they were sorting through everyone.” Tears begin rolling down Jinhwan’s face, eyes downcast as he wrings his wrists.

            Hanbin hushes him softly, “It’s okay… We’ll find him. I promise.”

            Mino stands up, eyes dazed as he looks around the crowd, “I have to… I have to find him.” He walks in a trance, staring at each face desperately for some recognition. He marches through the crowd of courtesans and through the palace doors.

            “I, I’m going to take Jinhwan to wash up.”

            He nods solemnly; glancing around before looking at the soldiers, “You are all dismissed.”

            “Let go!”

***

            The court doors crash open, two burly men dragging a petite figure between them before throwing him on the ground beside all the other courtesans. He glares at the ground, refusing to look up at the new king or anyone else.

            “We found him hiding in the closet in the red district.”

            He can hear shuffling, gold embroidered robes swishing into view. A deep voice interrupts his thoughts, “And who is this—Donghyuk.”

            He stares into familiar brown eyes, black hair pushed by a golden crown, “J-Junhwe?”

            “Are you—Where were— Are you okay?” The taller male trips over his words, kneeling down to draw his face into warm hands, “I have missed you.”

            He stares at warm brown eyes, pale skin, and red lips, still unbelieving of who stood before him. “Junhwe? Is it really you?”

            The taller male nods, small smile on his lips as his hands move down his face and on his shoulders, “Are you okay? Did anyone touch you? Are you hurt?”

            “I am fine.” He looks up with a warm smile, cheeks pinking under lantern lights.

            Junhwe pulls back for a brief moment, “Everyone is dismissed.” He looks back at him, grin widening, and voice calming, “We should get you washed up.”

***

            There’s a lingering aroma of cherry blossoms and tangerines as he feels nimble hands comb through his hair, softening silky strands. He was sitting on a stack of satin cushions, dressed in a cherry red hanbok. The maids smile warmly as a eunuch brings forth a small feast into the private room; he waits with bated breath when everyone leaves. Staring down at steamed rice and stacks of jeon before the private quarters are opened, a flash of embroidered silk striding inside.

            He moves to stand up; ready to greet the newcomer but a hand is brought out.

            “Do not stand up. Just sit.”

            He does as told, watching from beneath fluttering eyelashes as Junhwe sits across the table from him.

            “Eat.” Junhwe reaches for silver utensils; beginning to shovel food into his mouth as he tries to ignore the long stare Donghyuk throws his way. Silently, he begins to eat as well, eyes trained on the other male as his eyelashes flatten against his skin.

            The silence is unbroken even as servants clear the table away, leaving them alone with cups of tea and rice cakes. Peeking beneath dark lashes, he watches as Junhwe sips quietly on yuja tea, absentmindedly picking at the sleeves of his newly minted robes. Voice barely above a whisper, he finally glances up to speak, “Are you a king now?”

            Junhwe pulls the porcelain cup away from his lips, staring down at him with an unreadable expression, “…Yes.”

            He carefully nods, thoughts racing as he places his hands on his lap, “Joseon has earned itself a mighty king.”

            “I… I meant to find you myself. I wanted to keep my promise.”

            Clearing his throat, he plasters on a smile, voice saccharine, “It does not matter. Why would the king worry about a promise he had made to a lowly gisaeng?”

            “Donghyuk—“

            “Excuse me, your majesty. I believe you have pardoned all gisaeng to return to the gisaeng houses—“

            “Please don’t leave.”

            He pauses, looking up from his lap to lock eyes with the new king.

            “Please don’t leave. I can’t… I have missed you. I wanted to keep my promise, I swear. However, creating a new kingdom—“

            Donghyuk leans forward to shyly press their lips together; he pulls away with a dark blush, eyes downcast as he toys with his hands. He bites his lip to hide the small smile but looks up from under dark eyelashes when the king places two fingers under his chin, grinning softly at him.

            “I love you, my Donghyuk.”

            His cheeks redden, licking his lips out of nervous habit before he looks up into dark eyes, “I love you too.”

***

Hanseong, Joseon: September 1685

 

            “Are you nervous?”

            He blushes, drawing soft laughter from his brothers.

            “Our baby brother marrying a king, who would have dreamed of such?”

            “I did. Junhwe is a stubborn bastard.”

            Everyone looks up to see Mino strut into the private royal quarters, dressed in saturated blue robes. He glances at his brother, seeing his widening smiles as the general watches the three of them.

            “Should you be speaking ill of our king?” Jinhwan teases, adjusting the sash of his orange hanbok, checking his reflection in the mirror.

            “I have known our king since he took his first steps. I believe I can say whatever I want.” Mino settles on patterned cushion, flashing the three of them a self-satisfied grin. He winks at Donghyuk’s reflection, “I think this dynasty will go down in history for having the prettiest generation of spouses.”

            “How charming.” Jinhwan deadpans before throwing his older brother a look, “Are you sure you wish to spend the rest of your life with this man?”

            The noble makes a noise of protest but is promptly ignored by everyone else; Jinwoo chuckles softly, “He did save me from a squad of unruly looters.”

            “There were many of them and one of me. It was a fierce battle.”

            “It was three unarmed men.” Jinhwan retorts, combing through Donghyuk’s hair. “General, is there a reason you have interrupted the consort’s wedding preparations?”

            “You wound me, Sir Jinhwan. But I do have something to deliver for the future consort.” Mino reached into the pocket of his robes, pulling out a silk pouch and handing it to Donghyuk. “The king has ordered I deliver this gift in private.”

            Jinwoo glances over his shoulder to stare at the embroidered pouch, surveying the stitched hibiscus flowers, “I wonder where he finds such pouches?”

            “He has them commissioned.” Mino lazes on the hardwood floor, leaning down to rest his head on his husband’s knee. “He specifically has them embroidered for Donghyuk.”

            He blushes, looking down to trace over the raised thread of the bag. He tugs at the string to loosen the pouch, tilting it to allow a brooch to tumble out of the fabric. He stares wide-eyed at the gold-plated brooch; it seems familiar but he doesn’t know why.

            “It’s a tiger! Embracing a kumiho. He must have commissioned this as well.” Jinwoo smiles warmly at the gift, “Our king has already begun spoiling his consort.”

            “Very rare indeed.” Jinhwan looks at the item with close inspection, “For some odd reason, it seems familiar.” He stares at the tiger embracing the kumiho, their eyes replaced with rare stones.

            Donghyuk nods in agreement, rubbing his fingers over the cold metal before Jinhwan reaches for it, pinning it to the lapel of his golden robes.

***

            “Your majesty, I apologize if this is out of place, but please, stop pacing.”

            Junhwe glances up to see Hanbin staring hard.

            “You have been pacing since you have finished preparations. Everything will be fine. No one shall stop you from marrying Donghyuk. You have succeeded.”

            He huffs out a breath; he slumps back on his throne, nervously picking at the red silk of his gonryongpo. “Were you not nervous on your wedding day?”

            “I was but I did not wear down the floor of my home with my pacing.”

            “I am just worried."

            "There is nothing for you to worry about. The laws have changed; you have changed the laws of our nation. It is no longer illegal to marry someone of the gisaeng class. One no longer needs the permission of the emperor, in this case, you, to marry someone they love.”

            “I know. I know but I am still—“

            The two look up at the papered doors, Mino breezing through; he smiles at both of them, a bottle of rice wine. “I have pilfered from the fallen king’s personal wine cellar, and look what I have discovered! Now, we must drink in celebration of our king’s wedding!” He flashes a grin at Hanbin, wearing matching smirks before handing the bottle to Junhwe. “What has our king so nervous?”

            “He worries of his future consort.”

            “There is nothing to worry about! Your bridegroom looks lovely.”

            Junhwe straightens in his seat, staring at the general, “How is Donghyuk? Is he nervous? Does he regret this?”

            Mino laughs heartily, clapping a comforting hand on his back, “Nothing to worry about! He is excited. Not nervous. He most certainly does not regret this. Now, enough of this useless worrying, drink!” He raises his glass, downing the bitter beverage with a shout of excitement.

***

            The ceremony is long and drawn out; alcohol is passed freely around and the feast is rich. Different nobles offer their congratulations but he ignores their empty words. His crown is heavy and uncomfortable; his robes are stuffy and dense, but he chances a glance in the corner of his eye to see Donghyuk. The smaller male is smiling softly at everyone, but he can see the exhaustion in his eyes, cheeks pink from the rice wine Mino had passed everyone.

            He watches quietly as the music bounces off the palace walls; everyone is drunk, toasting loudly and jesting merrily in the court. He flashes a small smile at Donghyuk, clearing his throat, “I want to thank you all for your gifts and warm congratulations. A new dynasty has begun and I am happy to share it with you.” The crowd cheers, toasting their drinks as their king stands proudly in front of the court. “This new reign shall mark a new era of peace in Joseon!”

***

            They sneak out of the palace quarters when Mino and Hanbin distract the crowd; he gathers his newly crowned spouse towards their shared quarters, heart racing in his chest. They settle on top of silk sheets and warm duvets, silence lingering between them.

            Donghyuk sits a few feet away from him, hiding his pink blush behind the sleeves of his embroidered robes. He flashes him a small grin, clearing his throat awkwardly, eyes glancing around the room before reaching out a long arm to grab the smaller male’s hand, tugging him forward to slide on the wooden floor.

            He yelps, face flushing red-hot as he brings their faces close together. Junhwe smiles down at the petite male, eyes tracing over his delicate features. He can feel his own face heat up quietly, “You’re pretty.”

            “You’re drunk.” He whispers back, smile soft.

            “I am not drunk.” Junhwe grins, eyes crinkled like crescents, “I love you.”

            Donghyuk giggles and his smile is warm and adoring so he leans forward to kiss him. He feels nimble fingers clutch the collar of his gonryongpo, pulling him closer; he grins into the kiss, softly dragging his hand down to warmly wrap around a small waist.

            He gently shifts to lay the smaller male on his back, on plush sheets and silk duvets. They break apart silently; Donghyuk arches his back when he feels a hot mouth on a smooth expanse of his skin, the jeogori of his ceremonial robes, pulled to the side.

            “I love you. I love you. I love you.” Junhwe presses kisses against the other’s sharp jawline, punctuating his words with small smiles.

            He can feel Donghyuk giggle breathlessly, the noise echoing in his chest as he pulls away to paw off his robes. He throws it on the ground beside the bed, leaving him in his baji as he pulls at long silk sashes, undoing the smaller male’s robes. The heat in the room was palpable, staring down at dark eyes and honeyed skin.

***

            Junhwe looks down at him with a small grin, pupils wide in the heat of the night. He can feel a blush crawl up his skin; the loosened sashes of his robe are splayed against the duvet. He looks up from under fluttering eyelashes, biting his lip nervously.

            He smiles softly when Junhwe whispers soft words against his skin, giggling at the ticklish kisses before he runs his hands through dark locks. He tugs softly to bring the king back to face him; he whispers in the quiet, “I love you too.”

            There’s a deep chuckle, and a warm kiss; he giggles into the kiss, carding his fingers through his hair. He feels warm hands on his bare shoulders, moving his own hands down from dark locks to the solid muscle of the king’s back.

            He whimpers when Junhwe moves to press hot lips against bare skin, nipping softly. The king brings his lips to his chest, tongue flat against the skin. His whine is stuck in the back of his throat when he feels thumbs hook into the band of his baji, tugging them down his legs and leaving him bare, Donghyuk flushes, hiding his face in Junhwe’s chest out of embarrassment. His words are mumbled against tense muscle, “D-don’t look.”

            “You’re pretty.” Junhwe’s voice is calming; in the dark, his grin is wide and he litters soft kisses over his face, eliciting ticklish giggles. “You’re beautiful.” The taller male pulls away, gazing at him with hooded eyes and a lazy grin. He leans down to trail kisses from his jawline down to his hips, mouthing at the smooth, tanned skin. “I love you.”

            He covers his face with his hands, hiding the blush before mumbling between the spaces of his fingers, “I love you too, Junhwe. My tiger. My protector. My king.”

***

            Junhwe laughs softly when he hears Donghyuk’s whispers. Smiling warmly at his bridegroom, he leans down to press kisses against his ear, voice deep as he whispers, “You remember my story… My kumiho. You are mine. And I am yours.”

            He pulls away to press more kisses against his collarbone, biting at the skin with a self-satisfied smirk. As he wraps his long limbs around the other’s waist, he feels a hand against his chest; looking down quizzically at the petite male, he lets Donghyuk press him back, leaning against the cushioned duvet.

            Watching from under dark lashes, the smaller male climbs between his legs, gripping the hem of his baji to shyly tug them down; he lifts his hips, helping Donghyuk pull them down his legs, observing as his spouse blushes.

            With a gravelly voice, he brings his hands to cup the other’s face, “You don’t have to do anything—“

            “I want to!” Donghyuk ducks his head in embarrassment, covering his hands with his own, “I… I want to do this. I am just nervous. I have never… I have never done this before.”

            His breath hitches, heart hammering against his chest, “You don’t have to…”

            The smaller male ignores him, pressing kisses against his firm chest, pressing soft lips against his nipples before trailing down once more. He feels hot breath above him, pausing momentarily; he moves to pull the consort away, about to tell him it’s okay when he feels a hot mouth on him. Throwing his head back, he feels a long moan caught in the back of his throat, hands automatically moving to tug at brown locks.

***

            Hollowing his cheeks, he feels strong hands tug lightly at his scalp; he places his hands on thick thighs for support, sucking softly and nervously. Donghyuk feels Junhwe press against the back of his throat before the king pulls him away, pressing a chaste kiss against his lips.

            “I don’t want to… Not yet.”

            He blushes but lets Junhwe turn them around again, back flat against the cool silk. Placing warm hands on the side of his face, he brings him down into a kiss, moaning softly when he feels warm hands slide between his thighs. His face reddens when he gently spreads his legs, moving to carefully wrap them around Junhwe’s waist.

            Donghyuk hears the other stumble against the bedside chest, knocking over items; he feels slick fingers between his thighs. His breath pauses, eyes closed as he tries to relax before he feels something press inside him.

            Junhwe shushes quietly, peppering kisses against his jawline, “Relax… I won’t hurt you.”

            Nodding tensely, he grabs his shoulders, digging his blunt nails into the skin as Junhwe’s finger drags against his walls. He moans softly, breathless when another finger presses against him, pumping slowly as oil slides easily.

            He unconsciously clenches; his moan is long and drawn out as Junhwe presses against a spot. He arches his back, hips moving closer to his husband as he keens softly in desperation. Donghyuk whines when another finger presses against his entrance, three digits pumping in and out of him as he pants loudly between them.

***

            Junhwe watches with rapt interest, observing each emotion flash across the delicate features. He feels pressure around his fingers before relaxing; he leans down to press a chaste kiss against his temple, pulling away and drawing out a soft whimper.

            He smiles warmly, pressing his lips against Donghyuk’s, quietly moaning as he swipes his tongue against soft flesh. He drags his tongue against the inside of his mouth, reaching down to position himself between the lean legs. He swallows the long moan; his own growl in the back of his throat as he feels tight heat around him.

            Pausing for a brief moment, catching his breath before pulling his hips away and pushing forward again. The private quarters are filled with the soft pants and hushed whimpers, the heat overbearing between them before he suddenly flips the two of them over.

            He lies back on several pillows, the silks sheets pooled around them as Donghyuk sits in his lap. Junhwe grins at his husband, bringing him down into a kiss, breaking apart with a soft growl, nipping at exposed skin.

            “J-Junhwe… I-I can’t…” Donghyuk whines, shaking his head as he places warm hands on his chest.

            Shushing quietly, “It’s okay. You can… You can do it, Donghyuk. You’re doing so well.” He encourages with a smile; gripping thin hips, he helps the smaller male move, groaning at the indescribable heat engulfing him, snapping up with a moan. “You’re perfect… I love you.”

***

            Pressing his palms against the smooth expanse of skin, blunt nails digging into his husband’s chest as he sinks down in his lap, he keens loudly, eyes clenched in pleasure. Donghyuk shakes his head, unsure of what he’s doing; the sensation of Junhwe pressing against him is overwhelming. His voice is hoarse, breathing, “I d-don’t know… I-I don’t know w-what to do…”

            He feels warm hands on his hips, grip firm as his spouse lifts his hips to meet his own; he throws his head back, too lost as Junhwe slowly lifts him up, helping him sink back down in his lap. The position allows the king to press against his spot, a hand between them, bringing him closer to his release with each drag around his tight walls.

            Leaning down, he kisses Junhwe fervently, closer and closer to the edge before he cries into his mouth, releasing between them. He slumps forward, his high bursting in rivulets as he clenches tightly. Donghyuk registers being lifted turned back on the sheets as Junhwe begins snapping his hips with fervor, groaning lowly in his ear. He hears a deep growl, feeling heat paint his insides before Junhwe falls beside him, sliding out with a soft whimper.

            Their panting fills the room, breaths syncing as they lie in pools of sheets and duvets. Junhwe wraps a long arm around his waist, tugging him closer to press his lips against his temple. He snuggles closer, yawning quietly as exhaustion overcomes him; voice warm, and he whispers against his skin, “I love you, Junhwe.”

            “I love you, Donghyuk.”

***

Hanseong, Joseon: November 1686

 

            “Do you have to leave?”

            He looks up, placing several arrows in a separate quiver, to lock eyes with his husband. He sighs softly, reaching forward to place his hands around a small waist, pressing their foreheads together. “I must protect our people. I must protect our country.”

            Donghyuk glances down at his lap, his lip jutted out in a pout, “I do not want my husband to leave me alone.”

            He grins, chuckle low, as he brushes hair away from his face, “I do not want to leave my husband alone either but our nation needs its king to protect it.” He litters his face with soft kisses, grinning at the giggles he elicits. “I promise to return as soon as possible.”

            “The last time you said that, you returned as king of Joseon.”

            Laughing breathlessly, he glances at Donghyuk, “Perhaps this time, I shall return as the king of Manchuria.” His laugh echoes when his husband rolls his eyes. “I love you, Donghyuk.”

            The aforementioned male sighs softly, looking up through fluttering eyelashes with a warm smile. “I love you too, Junhwe.”

***

Hanseong, Joseon: February 1687

 

            “The king has returned!” A voice echoes in the court, everyone snaps toward the gates at the announcement.

            Thumping on the ground, he throws away his book; hiking up the long hem of his robes, he darts out of the room, followed by the shouts of servants and maids, struggling to catch him.

            “Your majesty! You mustn’t run in the palace!”

            He ignores their echoing calls, chasing through the palace gardens, red silk robes billowing in the wind before he finally reaches the large gates of the palace. They’re pulled open, horses striding in as foot soldiers trail behind. He halts, breath struggling in his chest as he looks up at the large creatures strut through; he grins widely when he sees a familiar black stallion in the sea of brown and white horses. Without much thought, he calls out loudly, “Junhwe!”

            Trailing behind him, the maids chastise him for his informal language but are stopped when a hand stops them.

            Jumping off the black steed, armor heavy in the air, Junhwe steps forward, arms outstretched as he runs toward him. He laughs warmly as the king wraps long limbs around him, “Donghyuk. I have missed you.”

            He looks up adoringly, cheeks pink, before he moves to place his hands on both sides of the taller male’s face, “You look thinner.” He worries, lips tugging into a frown but Junhwe leans forward to kiss him, flushing his face in embarrassment as everyone looks at the royal couple.

            “Just a side effect of war.” His voice is low and soft, whispering between them as everyone else is quietly dismissed by Mino to return to their duties and stations. Junhwe moves to brush his hair away, disheveled from his sprint. “Do not worry. I won’t ever leave you again. I vowed to protect you. Forever.”

            “You seem to have interacted with Sir Mino too much; your words are too sweet and charming.”

            They laugh when they hear a shout of protest before Junhwe hooks an arm around his waist, strolling back towards the palace quarters.

 

***

Seoul, South Korea: 2014

 

            “What if I don’t make it? They’re obviously going to vote for you.”

            “Stop worrying, Donghyuk. Of course, they’re going to vote for you.”

            “But what if they don’t?”

            “Like Hanbin would allow that to happen. I bet everyone would go on strike.”

            “And you?”

            “…I’ll protect you. So stop worrying, you’re going to make it.”

            “Okay… Thanks, Junhwe.”

           


End file.
